Teachers on Leave

December Doldrums: Where Energy Goes to Die

Just as the year is about to come to an end, people's energy and synergy are dwindling. Dwindling like last month's salary. Dwindling like my patience during staff meetings.

The main reason? They have been so actively involved and working hard for almost nine months. Nine months. That's longer than a pregnancy, and arguably more painful. It's now time for a rest. A little drop-off from laborious and taxing works. A small, humble, please-God-let-me-sleep break.

Because a teacher's job is so heavy that even an undertaker boxer—you know, the kind who lifts coffins for a living—would be able to lift it only for a second. And then he would put it down and walk away slowly, possibly crying.

We need lots of free periods to deliver quality lessons. But do we get them? No. We get back-to-back classes, meetings about meetings, and lesson plans that ask us why we didn't submit the previous plans.

And Then There's the Moelam Choemo Factor

Another reason for the leaves nowadays is the ongoing Moelam Choemo in Gedu, seven kilometers from Darla school. Seven kilometers. A perfectly walkable distance. But apparently, it requires full-day leave and a spiritual passport mop.

Many devotee teachers are attending the ceremony there. Praying for peace and prosperity. Which is noble. Which is good. Which leaves the rest of us drowning in their absent bodies.

The Great Leave Escape

Complying with hard works—or perhaps escaping from them—teachers have begun to take leave from their works. Today, 12 teachers have taken casual leave. Twelve. That's the whole of a Lower Secondary school. If a school falls in a forest and no teachers are there to teach, does it make a sound? Yes. It's the sound of substitutes crying.

When such leaves are taken, substitutions come like battalions. Relentless. Unforgiving. Leaving one with no ways to catnap for clear teaching for the next class. No gap. No breathing. No five minutes to stare at the wall and question your career choices.

Meanwhile, the leave-takers? They would have taken forty winks like naps. Peaceful. Blissful. Probably dreaming of Moelam Choemo blessings.

And we? We are inflamed. Burning. Steaming like a kettle left on too long.

So here's to the end of the year. May it come quickly. May the leaves be balanced. And may the substitutes survive.

Deep breath. Red pen. Next class.

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